Anstruther’s affair came on. George Townshend moved to address the King to enforce the sentence of the Privy Council, and oblige him to make compensation to those he had oppressed and despoiled. Mitchell opposed the Motion; Pitt spoke well in behalf of it, and it was agreed to without a division; and the further consideration deferred to the Wednesday following. Sir John Molesworth and Sir Robert Burdett, two Tory members, complained to the House of having been carried by a Constable to St. Martin’s roundhouse as they were walking home, and kept there all night. At five in the morning, Carne, the High Constable, who had been very active against Lord Trentham, offered to release them on promise of their taking no revenge, which they refused. The Constable was taken into custody, and Carne too, after a short debate, the Whigs being very zealous to vindicate the honour of the Tory members against a Tory High Constable. He was released the next day. Bathurst[99] and Joddrell were continued Attorney and Solicitor to the Princess. Bathurst was an unpleasant, but sometimes a good speaker. Joddrell was a very rising man, but died soon after, and was succeeded by Henley, who was a lawyer in vogue, but his abilities did not figure in proportion to the impudence of his ill-nature. Douglas and Boone (in the room of Sir John Cust, who was soon after restored on the death of Douglas) were named to the Green Cloth, and Bloodworth had the sole direction of the Stables. The King offered the Princess a Master of the Horse, but told her it must be a Nobleman, and there was one to whom he had an objection: This was Lord Middlesex.[100] She desired none; if she had been disposed to contend, it would not have been of all men in favour of the Lord in question. His figure, which was handsome, had all the reserve of his family, and all the dignity of his ancestors. He was a poet, too, because they had been poets. As little as he came near them in this talent, it was what he most resembled them in, and in what he best supported their honour. His passion was the direction of operas, in which he had not only wasted immense sums, but had stood lawsuits in Westminster Hall with some of those poor devils for their salaries. The Duke of Dorset had often paid his debts, but never could work upon his affections; and he had at last carried his disobedience so far, in complaisance to, and in imitation of the Prince, as to oppose his father in his own boroughs. That Duke,[101] with the greatest dignity in his appearance, was in private the greatest lover of low humour and buffoonery. He had early lost the hearts of the Whigs by some indirect connexions with Lord Oxford in the end of Queen Anne’s reign; and he was never thought to have wanted a tendency to power, in whatever hands it was, or was likely to be lodged.